


Some Days? Not So Much

by Telesilla



Series: Ventura Highway [13]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-17
Updated: 2009-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:57:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days even Rodney is less than god-like in the kitchen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Days? Not So Much

Later, John realized that he should never have let Rodney cook that night. Of course, stopping Rodney when he wanted to do anything wasn't exactly the easiest thing and getting between him and the kitchen when he was in a mood could be downright suicidal. Well not suicidal, but at the very least John could end up sleeping on the couch.

So instead, he just stayed out of the way, settling himself at the table and hiding behind his laptop. Rodney didn't even ask him what he was working on, which wasn't a good sign. John gave a mental shrug and brought up the store accounts, picking at them casually while doing his best to keep an eye on Rodney.

"Lasagna," Rodney said after standing in front of the refrigerator for several minutes.

John frowned; lasagna ala Rodney was really quite good but it involved a lot of work, some of it quite fiddly. "Can I help?"

Rodney paused in the process of pulling meat out of the freezer. "I'm perfectly capable of pulling off lasagna on my own."

"I didn't...okay." Arguing with Rodney when he was in this kind of mood was also a pretty bad idea, so he tapped a few keys at random and then mentally shrugged and brought up a solitaire game.

Rodney put the meat in microwave and set it to defrost and then put water on for the noodles. He paused and John looked up. "Should I make fresh sauce?"

"Don't we have some in the big freezer?" John knew they did; Rodney had made several batches of plain red sauce just two weeks ago.

"Yeah, but I've got these tomatoes...."

John wondered if he could send an email over to Brian at the shop and tell him to invent a reason to call and ask John to come by, but no, that was the coward's way out.

"Ow! Shit!"

John was up and at Rodney's side before he even realized he'd moved.

"What? I just cut myself; it's no big deal." Rodney shoved John out of the way and reached for the anti-bacterial soap. As he washed his hands, John reached up into the cupboard and pulled down the Neosporin and the box of bandaids. Rodney grabbed them out of John's hand and insisted on bandaging his finger himself.

John thought about offering to finish slicing the onions but one look at Rodney's tight, annoyed face sent him back to his solitaire game. Rodney muttered to himself, swearing in French, which normally John found kind of awesome, but today seemed problematical, particularly since there were a lot of mother related curses.

"Want a beer?" John asked after about ten minutes. "Or hey, we've got that bottle of red; I could open it and you could put some in the sauce."

"Are you telling me how to make my sauce?"

"No," John said mildly. "I was asking if you wanted a drink."

"I don't," Rodney said. He paused and then added, "thanks."

"Sure," John said, grabbing a beer out of the fridge.

The next several minutes passed without incident; Rodney had his sauce well underway and had put his noodles on to boil. He was working on the meat, running it through the food processor in batches and the muttering had died down.

"I'm teaching Physics for Poets next semester," he finally said.

"Did you lose the toss?"

"No. Sadly, it's my turn again." Rodney sighed and leaned against the counter for a moment. "I hate that damn course. I offered to teach two courses of 101 instead, but no luck."

"That sucks."

"Yes, thank you," Rodney snapped. "I was aware of that fact."

"Just commiserating," John said, taking a long drink of his beer and wondering if he could possibly manage to avoid the fight Rodney seemed determined to have.

"Yes well...." Rodney went back to the food processor, which chose that moment to jam a little. "Motherfucker!" he shouted and shook the machine. The lid came off and suddenly there was minced pork and beef all over Rodney and the kitchen.

John blinked and stared at Rodney, but before he could say anything, the pasta pot boiled over. "Oh for fuck's sake," Rodney shouted and threw the lid to the food processor across the kitchen.

"Okay," John said, standing up. "That's enough." He pulled the plug on the food processor and went and turned off the burner under the pasta. "Tell me where you want to eat tonight and then go take a shower."

"Excuse me?" Rodney drew himself up and John looked him in the eye and waited for the storm to hit. Rodney opened his mouth and then paused and seemed to deflate. "Okay," he said and wiped minced meat off his forehead. "Um...Duke's?"

"Yeah," John said. "I could go for that."

"I should," Rodney began, moving toward the sink.

"I'll do it," John said firmly. "Go shower."

Cleaning the kitchen only took a few minutes, thanks to the fact that they usually kept it pretty clean to begin with. The shower was still running when John came into the bathroom and Rodney was humming, but not singing.

John shook his head and stripped quickly, letting his clothes fall to the floor. He made a point of saying "hey" before he opened the door to the shower.

"I thought you took a...oh...." Rodney's eyes went wide as John dropped to his knees and slid his hands up Rodney's thighs. "Why...oh God....John."

John pulled back long enough to say, "because your day's sucked," before he went down again, this time not stopping until he had all of Rodney's dick in his mouth. He dragged it out, pulling back and licking gently when Rodney started to moan and shiver.

"John...." Rodney finally said. "Oh fuck, John...please...'c'mon...don't be...oh fuck!"

He did that thing with his teeth again and Rodney yelped and came while John swallowed and swallowed. Finally, when Rodney was done, John rested his head against Rodney's thigh, panting almost in unison with Rodney.

"God, you are so...." Rodney snapped his fingers and then turned off the water. "C'mon...up up and out of the shower. Don't worry about drying off, we haven't made the bed in a while."

"Huh?" John blinked as he stood up.

"Look, given the way I've been today, we're already pushing it; if you hadn't been holding me up, I'd might have slipped and cracked my head. I'm not going to risk either your health or mine while you fuck me."

Grinning, John headed for the bedroom.

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> This kind of came out of no where; I was just wondering if there was ever a time when Ventura!Rodney had a crappy day in the kitchen. Thanks to Darkrose for the once over.


End file.
